Child of Freedom
by Celtic Storm
Summary: William and Isabella's child


Suppose Princess Isabella and William Wallace HAD conceived a child. What would have happened then?

_1314: Edward II, overcome with anger over the loss at Bannockburn and the conception of a child between his wife and the Scottish rebel, William Wallace, ordered that the child be taken from the kingdom when it was born, and brought back to Scotland where she belonged. The young child was taken in the night and brought straight to the village where Wallace himself had been born. She was found the next morning, and Hamish, an old friend of Wallace, and his new wife, took the child as their own. Neither of them knew they were adopting the only child of the very man who helped them win their freedom._

_Thirteen Years Later_

"Margaret!" Hamish yelled out from the front of his hut. A young girl who knelt in a flower patch about one hundred yards from him turned at the sound of his voice. Her long brown hair reflected the light from the remaining rays of sun and her blue eyes glistened with life. Hamish smiled at her from where he stood and waved an arm beckoning her to come to him. With an obedient leap, the girl was up and running across the plush green field with a handful of wild flowers in her hands. In seconds she stood before him, smiling up at him with a face that lately, Hamish knew he recognized. Without a word, the girl handed Hamish the flowers. "For me, are they?" He asked.

"Aye, for you."

"None for your mother, then?" The girl shrugged.

"I figured you could share." Hamish laughed and tousled the young girl's hair.

"Go on inside, your mother has supper ready." Margaret began to walk in but Hamish but a hand to her chest. "Ah, ah. Let me see your hands." Margaret looked down at the ground and shuffled a foot as she brought her hands to her front. They were covered in dirt. "Just as I thought. Go give them a quick wash, why don't you?"

"All right, Da." As Margaret ran to the side of the hut, Hamish's attention was averted to the sound of horse hooves beating relentlessly on the ground. Suddenly, a man on horseback appeared over the hill. It was Ambros, another who had fought at the side of William Wallace. When he reached Hamish, he stopped and dismounted. He grabbed Hamish's shoulder for balance as he bent over in exhaustion. Taking deep breaths, he tried to speak, yet the words would not come out.

"What is it man?" Hamish asked. The man could not speak. "Ambros, for the love of God, would you talk!" Finally, he found words.

"Edward- the second- has been murdered."

"What!"

"He has been murdered. Isabella of France ordered it, and it was done."

"Oh my God. Aggie, come out here!" Hamish's wife Agnes appeared at the door.

"What is it, Hamish? You're screaming loud enough to wake the dead!"

"Edward has been murdered!" Aggie's eyes widened in disbelief.

"The English King?"

"Aye. Isabella ordered it." Aggie put a hand over her mouth as she gasped.

"That's not all, Hamish, there's more." Hamish turned his gaze back to Ambros and listened attentively. "Isabella birthed a child."

"Of course she birthed a child, man, Edward III." Ambros quickly shook his head.

"No, no, I mean another child. One that was conceived in a bed that did not belong to Edward II."

"I had heard that she had a lover. Where is the child now?" Ambros looked about as if he were afraid that he was being watched then beckoned Hamish and Aggie inside. They did not notice Margaret as she snuck back around the side of the hut and began to listen in.

She watched as inside, Hamish, Aggie, and Ambros sat in the center of the room where a small fire was lit. The smoke billowed out from a chimney like hole that had been cut out of the ceiling. Ambros continued his tale.

"It is rumored that Isabella has confessed to an affair with..." He did not go on. Margaret strained to hear. "With who man? You can't come out here interrupting a peaceful night at home then hem and haw your way out of it. Who did Isabella have an affair with?" Ambros looked up at him with sad and weary eyes, then whispered, "William Wallace."

"What? Speak up Ambros I can hardly hear ye."

"William Wallace!" Ambros yelled. Margaret jumped at the door but remained unnoticed. Hamish and Aggie sat silent and still for what seemed like forever until Ambros spoke again. "It was thirteen years ago, a few moons after the battle at Bannockburn. The child was stolen in the night at Edward II's command. He ordered it be taken back to Scotland and placed with the 'trash' it belonged with. It was a little girl." Hamish and Aggie were silent. "Hamish, I think Margaret might be that..."

"No!" Aggie interrupted. "It can't be true." Hamish just sat shaking his head.

"Hamish, don't try to deny that you've seen him in her. Things she does, things she says, so much about her is him. I know you've seen it, man. We all have. We just didn't believe it could be true." Hamish took a deep breath than scoffed in cynical disbelief.

"Margaret...my Maggie...Wallace's daughter?" Suddenly, there was a noise at the door. Margaret had stumbled at the news, for until that moment, she believed the parents who raised her were also the parents who bore her. The three inside looked up to see Margaret backing away from the door. "Maggie," Hamish began.

"No...no," Maggie murmured.

"Maggie, listen to me."

"NO!" And with that, Maggie charged across the open field into the large patch of wild flowers she had been playing in before. Hamish ran after her. She tripped not long after but made no attempt to get up. Instead, she just bunched into a ball and sobbed. Hamish dropped down beside her.

"Maggie..."

"How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't know."

"You didn't know you found me in the middle of the village?" She asked sarcastically.

"No, that part I knew."

"Well that's all I care about." Hamish sighed.

"Maggie, your mother and I had been trying so hard to have a child. When we found you, it really didn't matter where you came from. All that mattered was that you were a wide eyed, gorgeous gift from God. We never suspected you would find out...especially not like this."

"YOU should have told me. All of this time, when I'd feel like I didn't belong, I always thought it was me."

"I didn't know you felt that way. If I had, I would have told you."

"You should have told me anyway. I have a right to know where I come from."

"Well, now you know. Now we all do." Margaret just shook her head in wonderment.

"William Wallace is my father."


End file.
